No One Here to Save Me
by WinterGirl19
Summary: COMPLETED! The government tore them apart, but when an unknown foe changes the government's plans, it's up to Sarah to save him. Chuck/Sarah.
1. Breathe

**A/N: I've set this story in the not-so-distant future, around five years from the current storyline of the show. It is very much Chuck/Sarah. I've taken some artistic license with certain details, please forgive me if I've gotten something wrong. =) **

**This story is a songfic to the song "Breathe" on Taylor Swift's new album. I do not own this song, these are not my characters, I'm simply borrowing them. I highly recommend listening to this song over and over while reading this story. It's much more powerful, as most things are, with backgound music. **

**Thanks so very, very much to one of my best friends and beta, mugglecastlover31, for helping me get all the characters into the right groove. Any mistakes left over are entirely my own. **

**This is my first ever attempt at FanFiction for Chuck, I hope you enjoy it. **

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_I see your face in my mind as I drive away,  
Cause none of us thought it was gonna end that way.  
People are people,  
and sometimes we change our minds.  
But it's killing me to see you go after all this time._

Reassigned.

The single word stung more than any bullet ever could. This wasn't happening to her. Not when things had finally started going right.

It wasn't fair.

But this was the end. Casey picked up the last box of things from her apartment.

"Walker?" he had stopped in the doorway when he realized she wasn't behind him. "Come on, we've got a lot more packing to do back at the Orange Orange." She caught the meaning in his words: _pull it together._

She sighed. He was right of course. She was highly trained and well aware of the realities of this job.

That didn't mean it was easy.

She followed him to the doorway and he continued down the hall to the elevator. Frozen in the doorway, she couldn't stop the flow of memories that overwhelmed her. All the times she'd hurt him, all the times she'd stood in this very spot gazing into those gorgeous eyes watching his heart break... She couldn't stand the thought of having to do that to him one last time.

She blinked rapidly to clear the tears from the corners of her eyes. She flipped the lights off for the last time as she pulled the door closed behind her.

It just. Wasn't. Fair.

_Music starts playin' like the end of a sad movie;  
it's the kinda ending you don't really wanna see.  
Cause it's tragedy and it'll only bring you down,  
now I don't know what to be without you around._

Relocation.

The word made him physically ill. This was not happening.

He stood in his sister's doorway staring dumbly at Casey.

"What? I think I misheard you, it sounded like you said I was being relocated." He chuckled uneasily. Casey's expression didn't change.

"I'm sorry Bartowski," the normally stoic NSA agent broke eye contact and looked heavenward as though some explanation for this horrible injustice might drop from the sky.

Chuck's heart had stopped beating. Hard as he tried, it just wouldn't start up again. Maybe that was because he was holding his breath.

"No," he breathed. Casey's eyes snapped back to Chuck's face.

"Bartowski-" his brow furrowed.

"No," Chuck cut him off. "No, you promised. They promised! They _promised._ The new Intersect… The tracking device…_they promised!"_ he growled the last words. He wasn't even making sense anymore. His heart rate plummeted. Casey's brow furrowed more and he looked concerned.

"Bartowski! Snap out of it man!" Casey growled. He gave Chuck a rough shove in the chest knocking him back a step into the living room, kicking the door shut as he followed the dazed man inside. He continued prodding Chuck until his knees hit the couch and he landed heavily on the cushions. Luckily Awesome and Ellie had pulled double shifts at the hospital today. Otherwise this would have been tricky. Casey took a quick look around, just to be on the safe side, and then sat down next to Chuck.

"No, no, no. Casey-" he struggled to stand. Casey kept a firm grip on Chuck's shoulder, restricting him to the couch.

"Bartowski, calm down. You're going to hurt yourself." By that Casey meant: _my orders include the words 'by any means necessary'. _"I know what the general said, but even with the new Intersect, that computer in your head is too valuable…it's too risky," he paused. "At least this way you get to continue living," he offered. The words meant nothing to Chuck as Casey tried and failed to reassuringly pat his shoulder. Living. Right. Life wasn't worth living if you didn't get to spend it with the people you cared about.

A thought struck Chuck.

"Sarah?"

"Reassigned."

Chuck let out a sharp breath.

"What about you?" he sounded very young, vulnerable. Casey's expression softened for a millisecond.

"My orders are to see that you're relocated, and then remain here, watching over your sister and brother-in-law for a stretch. Then, same as Walker: reassignment."

Chuck felt like Casey had punched him in the stomach. Everything he'd grown accustomed to over the last five years was being ripped out from under him.

"Do I get to say goodbye?" he turned to look at Casey, trying not to blink and consequently let fall his tears. Casey studied the door, and Chuck read the answer in his recently expressive face. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. The room was spinning and distantly he thought he heard Casey's voice.

He couldn't handle this.

_And we know it's never simple,  
never easy.  
Never a clean break, no one here to save me.  
You're the only thing I know like the back of my hand,  
And I can't,  
Breathe,  
Without you,  
But I have to,  
Breathe,  
Without you,  
But I have to._

Break up.

It was the most horrendous term she'd ever heard. It had taken them years to develop a complicated, but solid relationship. And now the government was dictating their lives. Her job was making her decisions for her. She loved this man. She really loved him. He was genuine, goofy and just generally…perfect. She'd never met anyone like Chuck.

Now she'd never get to see him again. They had this perfect harmony going. They understood each other. They accepted that their relationship was tricky. But they loved each other, and that made the struggle worthwhile. All the work, all the time, all the heart, soul, tears, pain, all of themselves that they had put into making this insane relationship work.

It was all for nothing.

Because the general had been very clear on her instructions for "The Asset": relocation and severing all ties or death. The choice was obvious.

But that didn't make it simple.

_Never wanted this, never wanna see you hurt.  
Every little bump in the road I tried to swerve.  
But people are people,  
and sometimes it doesn't work out,  
nothing we say is gonna save us from the fall out._

When Chuck's breathing had eventually returned to normal, Casey briefed him on the next steps.

Chuck sagged into the couch cushions and cursed Bryce Larkin for what felt like the billionth time since he'd met him all those years ago.

Casey was informing him that as soon as Chuck was ready, they'd go. No packing, no notes, no final _I love you_ to his sister. Nothing.

The CIA had a very elaborate fake death planned for Chuck and if he removed anything from the house, or spoke to anyone, it might raise suspicions. He leaned his head back onto the cushions, silently attempting to commit the familiar feeling to memory.

"Bartowski," Casey's slightly softer voice broke his concentration. Chuck stared at the older man. Casey was a little taken aback by the utter hopelessness in Bartowski's expressive eyes. It frightened him. This young man who was normally so exuberant appeared to have the life draining out of him before Casey's eyes.

"Bartowski," he started again, "it won't be so bad. You're not going to an underground facility. The government just feels it's best to move you somewhere closer to D.C., where you'll be more adequately watched over and away from the last place any Fulcrum agent might think to look for you. Your family will be protected." Chuck let out a humorless and disturbing laugh.

"But I can never see them again, and they'll think I'm dead. Right. Not bad at all."

_And we know it's never simple,  
never easy.  
Never a clean break, no one here to save me.  
You're the only thing I know like the back of my hand,  
And I can't,  
Breathe,  
Without you,  
But I have to,  
Breathe,  
Without you,  
But I have to._

Sarah watched from a distance as Casey herded a listless Chuck into a large, black, obviously government SUV. She wished it would rain. That would suit this situation so much better. The warm sunshine mocked them from its low position in the western sky. She watched as Casey handed Chuck bottled water and said something to him. Chuck must have said something heartfelt in reply because Casey's face hardened and he avoided eye contact. When he looked back at Chuck, he reluctantly extended a hand and Chuck's arm appeared briefly as he shook Casey's hand.

Sarah fought the urge to sprint toward the vehicle and latch herself onto that arm and never let go. She wouldn't do that though. They had both known this was a possibility. An eventuality actually, because they had always known that once the new Intersect was up and running, Sarah would be reassigned.

She had just always assumed that that would be a long time off. That she would have time to consider a contingency plan. That somehow, they would find a way to be together.

And either way, she had thought he would still be here. It would have given her peace of mind, even if they were worlds apart, knowing that Chuck was happy and safe around the people he loved.

Now she didn't know where he was going and she would never see him again.

Thinking about it made her lungs feel like ice.

She couldn't breathe.

_There's still time!_ her mind screamed at her. The door was still open. She could quit her job and go with him. But she knew in her heart she wouldn't do that. This job, unsteady as it was, was the only thing she'd ever done. Settling as a housewife…she just couldn't picture it. They'd been expecting this startling break up ever since they finally decided to give it a try.

Now it was time to let go.

The door slammed shut and Casey pounded twice on the passenger's side window, giving the driver the go ahead.

She couldn't stand to watch the car fade into the distance so she turned toward the ocean. Casey strode over to stand next to her. They stood in silence, watching the mocking sun leave behind a brilliantly colored sky as it slipped beneath the surface of the sea.

She hadn't said goodbye to him. Hadn't told him she loved him as many times as she should have. She knew it was better that way. If they said their goodbyes, she wasn't sure she would have been able to keep her resolve. When she looked into those eyes she simply wasn't in control. It was better this way.

The tears that poured down her face disagreed.

She sniffled, annoyed with herself for crying in front of Casey. Casey turned his head to look at her.

"You knew this was coming Walker," he voiced her thoughts. She let out a harsh laugh and bit back a sob.

"I didn't think it would…hurt…quite this much. With Bryce-"

"Chuck Bartowski is not Bryce Larkin," Casey pointed out with an unexpected about of emotion. She turned to look at him, but his eyes were locked on the now dark water.

"I know that," she followed his gaze, "of course I know that. They couldn't be more different. It was just so much easier letting Bryce go." Casey grunted.

"That's because Larkin is a tool." She smiled and laughed at his use of slang, wiping tears from her face with the sleeve of her sweater. He clearly had spent too much time around Morgan at the Buy More.

God. She'd really screwed up here. Her emotions were all over the place.

She loved it here. She loved these people.

She loved Chuck.

And he was gone forever.

_It's two a.m.  
Feelin' like I just lost a friend.  
Hope you know it's not easy,  
Easy for me.  
It's two a.m.  
Feelin' like I just lost a friend.  
Hope you know this ain't easy,  
Easy for me. _

_And we know it's never simple,  
never easy.  
Never a clean break, no one here to save me._

_I can't,  
Breathe,  
without you,  
But I have to,  
Breathe,  
without you,  
But I have to_.

_I'm sorry. _

_I'm sorry._

Chuck squirmed in his seat, struggling to see out the back window. But she wasn't looking. Her back was to him. Casey gave a small salute and turned toward Sarah as the SUV pulled away from the curb.

Chuck pulled in a ragged breath. He couldn't take this. He had to see her face one more time.

_Turn around. Come on, turn around!_

But she didn't. The SUV swung around a corner and the two figures disappeared from his sight.

This wasn't real. He felt like the Jaws of Life had just ripped his heart from his chest cavity.

It wasn't supposed to go like this. He was supposed to be giving Sarah the white picket fence she'd always wanted. It was supposed to be over. Not like this.

Sure, they'd told each other this was a possibility, but that was only so they could convince themselves that it was okay to have this relationship. It wouldn't last long, they'd told each other, so why not give it a shot? Enjoy it while it lasted.

That was years ago.

And he was still very much enjoying it. Before it had been snatched away from him. He hadn't even been given the chance to say goodbye. To tell her, as cheesy as it was, that she completed him. But maybe it was better this way. What could he possibly have said to her that would have made this easier? That he loved her? That he would miss her? There just weren't words in the English language that would spell out his emotion, his regret, his love. _No, _he decided, _you couldn't have done it. You would have ended up begging. Begging to stay._ Nothing would have changed. Saying goodbye wouldn't have given him closure.

He fumbled in his Buy More work pants and pulled out a black velvet box. He popped it open and stared down at the miniscule diamond. _It wasn't much, _he thought,_ but she would have loved it._

And he'd been looking forward to the look on her face when he knelt.

The way she'd say yes.

The kiss that would follow.

_Stop it, _he told himself, _stop torturing yourself._

He snapped the box shut and tossed it onto the seat. He watched it bounce off the leather and drop onto the carpet, disappearing under the driver's seat.

He leaned his head back against the cushion and closed his eyes.

_"Forget about us Bartowski," _Casey's words echoed in his mind. _"We've set up a nice life for you. Throw yourself into it. You'll never survive otherwise."_

Chuck let a single tear roll down his cheek before sweeping it away and stifling his emotions.

He couldn't live without her. She was…everything to him.

But he didn't have a choice. Life sucks and then you die. He'd always thought that was a rather harsh sentiment on the complications of living.

But now he wholeheartedly agreed with whoever had spoken those words.

It sucked. And it wasn't fair. Not only was he losing the love of his life, he was losing his sister and his best friend. He couldn't force his mind to think about how hard his fake death would be on them. He and Ellie had become so close. His big sister was always looking out for him and he knew, no matter what people told her, she'd find a way to blame herself for his death. He wished he could tell her it was in no way her fault, that he wasn't really dead. He wished he could tell her how much she meant to him and how he had always appreciated her over-protectiveness. He wished he could have told her goodbye.

He had to stop thinking this way.

He unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned over, sweeping the ground for the box. He scooped it up and stared at it, twirling it in his hands.

He shoved it back into his pants pocket. He'd find a safe place for this, a place to match the special place in his heart that would always belong to Sarah.

His friend.

His savior.

His love.

The woman he'd never see again.

_I can't,  
Breathe,  
without you,  
But I have to,  
Breathe,  
without you,  
But I have to._

_But I have to._

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Like it? Love it? Hate it? Let me know.


	2. I'd Come For You

**A/N: Alright, so I'm back with this story! I had an interesting idea for a continuation to this story, spurred on by reviewers (thanks to all who reviewed!) who wanted to see Chuck and Sarah reunited. I thought of a very dramatic, much longer way of getting to that reunion. I'm still sort of wo****rking out how this will all play out, so bear with me. **

**Again, none of these characters belong to me. The song in this chapter is "I'd Come For You" by Nickelback. I don't own that either.**

**I hope you enjoy it. **

_

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_

_Just one more moment  
That's all that's needed  
Like wounded soldiers  
__In need of healing  
Time to be honest  
This time I'm pleading  
Please don't dwell on it  
Cause I didn't mean it_

_I can't believe I said  
I'd lay my love on the ground  
But it doesn't matter  
Cause I made it up  
Forgive me now  
Everyday I spent away  
My soul's inside out  
Gotta be someway  
Tha__t I can make it up  
To you now_

_Some__ how_

Chuck closed his eyes and leaned his head against the cool glass of the car window. It felt like they'd been on the road for an eternity. The SUV climbed a dark two-lane road heading up through the hills and leading away from the city. Casey had not given Chuck all the details of the process of his relocation. He only knew that they would be crossing into another state before catching the plane to Chuck's new home. He would presumably have a new identity by the time the plane touched down.

He wondered how Ellie was handling his disappearance. She would be worried beyond reason at this point. After figuring out that Morgan had no idea where he was either, Chuck was sure she would have contacted every law enforcement agency that she could. He could picture Ellie yelling at an officer over the phone after hearing that they couldn't officially declare anyone missing for 48 hours. Devon would wrap an arm around her and try to calm her down.

It wasn't right. After all he and Ellie had gone through as kids, he couldn't bear to think about how much it would hurt her to learn he was dead.

Chuck wondered what Sarah was doing at this moment. Was she crying? Had she already been relocated somewhere far away? He let out a shaky breath. Was she as devastated as he was?

He had to get his thoughts somewhere else. It wasn't easy to do, considering he had nothing to look forward to. He didn't know where he was going or what was in store for him when he got there. He just couldn't imagine life being any good without the people he loved.

He opened his eyes and glared out into the blackness. In the distance he could faintly see the lights of the city. He seriously considered yanking the door open and leaping from the speeding car. He didn't even care if he broke every bone in his body. He would find a way to get back to his loved ones.

He glanced at the driver, to make sure he couldn't be seen, and then cautiously tried the handle.

It was locked.

Damn.

"Sir?" Chuck jumped at the sound of the driver's voice.

"I wasn't- I was just trying to-"

"Do you have your seatbelt on?" the driver ignored Chuck's worthless attempt at an explanation. Chuck cleared his throat.

"What?" _Why did that matter?_

"Do you have your seatbelt on?" he repeated himself. Chuck noticed a slight edge to his voice.

He was worried.

Chuck was growing more confused with each word from the driver's mouth.

"Do I- yeah, yeah I do. Why?"

"Sir, I think it would be best if you assumed the crash position." Chuck almost laughed out loud. 'Assume the crash position'? People really said that? He chuckled.

"Why would I-" The driver swerved suddenly and Chuck finally noticed the other car.

The one without headlights.

The one that was in their lane.

The other vehicle mimicked the SUV's movements and swerved to stay even with the SUV.

Something about this was very wrong.

The road wasn't wide enough. They had no where to go and the space between the two vehicles was closing rapidly. Chuck was frozen in his seat.

"Sir, please assume the crash position." The driver's voice was frantic now. They had two options here: swerve to miss the other vehicle and go down the side of the mountain.

Or hit the vehicle head on.

Both ultimately had the same outcome.

A painful death.

The other vehicle suddenly switched on its high beams and both the driver and Chuck attempted to shield their eyes.

The world around him exploded in a shower of steel and sparks as the vehicles impacted. Chuck was painfully flung against his seatbelt before his head whipped around and connected with the window. Spider -web cracks raced across the bullet proof glass.

It felt like it was a full ten minutes before the silence returned, but the ringing in his ears just intensified. He stared dazedly out the smashed windshield as another SUV squealed to a stop behind the other vehicle. It looked like twenty men poured out of the vehicle, but he was sure that was just a side effect of his head's painful meeting with the window. He lost track of them as they came towards the SUV. Chuck lifted his head ever so slightly to look at the driver.

He immediately wished he hadn't.

The driver was smashed between the steering wheel and the seat. Even from the backseat, Chuck could tell he wasn't breathing.

Chuck carefully leaned his head back against the headrest and tried to stop the world from tilting. He closed his eyes to fight off the nausea. He knew he needed to get out of the car. Whoever had crashed into them was obviously not going to be calling the police. This had been intentional and Chuck had to get away. He cursed Casey for taking his cell phone.

Suddenly Chuck's door was wrenched off its mangled hinges. He opened his eyes and looked at the person in the doorway without moving his head. The man handed what looked like a crowbar to someone out of Chuck's line of vision. He then held out a hand and a flashlight was slapped into his palm. The man clicked it on and shined it in Chuck's face. Chuck winced and attempted to turn his head away from the offending light source, sending shockwaves of pain through his head. He feared for a moment that he would vomit. The man clicked off the light and shoved a piece of paper back into his pocket.

Chuck watched him grin wickedly.

"We got him gentlemen," he turned his head slightly to tell his cohorts. He turned back to Chuck and leaned closer. "Mr. Bartowski, I must say, I'm very happy to see you." While Chuck had been avoiding the light, another object had been pressed into the man's hand. He leveled it at Chuck. "Sorry about this," he grinned at Chuck. The man pulled the trigger.

_That's not a very good way to show that you're sorry,_ Chuck thought to himself as the tranquillizer sticking out of his chest lulled him into unconsciousness.

_By now you know that  
I'd come for you  
No one but you  
Yes I'd come for you  
But only if you told me to  
I'd fight for you  
I'd lie it's true  
Give my life for you  
You know I'd always come for you_

Seeing Ellie sob and cling to her husband at the news of her baby brother's death had nearly broken Sarah. She couldn't believe what they were putting this poor woman through. Devon had had tears in his eyes. Morgan had nearly passed out from shock.

Ellie had called Sarah, asking if she'd seen him. A small part of Sarah's soul died when she had to tell Ellie no, she hadn't seen him since that afternoon at lunch. Playing the part of the stricken girlfriend, Sarah informed Ellie she was coming over after Ellie revealed that no one had seen him since that afternoon.

The police had arrived minutes before Sarah. She cried real tears as the officers informed Ellie, Devon, Morgan and herself that a burnout car had been found in the hills. It was Chuck's Nerd Herder. From what they could tell, the fuel line had been faulty. It was a tragic accident. No one could have seen it coming.

The foursome was still sitting in silence, spread about the living room. There was a knock on the door. No one moved. Sarah was closest to the door and got up to answer it.

A grim faced John Casey stood there staring back at her. He glanced around her at the grief stricken group behind her. He grabbed her arm and silently pulled her out into the courtyard. She stumbled a step but managed to pull the door shut behind her.

"Casey what-" he waved a hand, motioning for her to be quiet, and continued dragging her across the courtyard to his apartment. He swung the door open and shoved her inside before shutting and locking the door behind him. "What are you doing? I need to-" she turned to face him, throwing her hands up in frustration. The look on his face stopped her. He actually looked pale. "What is it Casey?" she was panicked now. "What's going on?" He ran a hand down his face and let out an exhausted sigh.

"The agent that was driving Chuck was supposed to be doing hourly check-ins over the secure line," he paused as though trying to figure the best way to break this to her, "He missed the last one. The SUV's tracking device shows the vehicle in the same spot for the last hour and a half." Sarah looked confused.

"How can that be? Why would he stop?" she thought for a moment. "Maybe they got a flat tire," she offered hopefully. Casey's face looked grim and he shook his head.

"He's gone Walker." Sarah let out a sharp breath.

"What do you mean 'he's gone'? He can't be 'gone' Casey!" Casey simply shook his head once more.

"When the GPS showed that the SUV had stopped moving, another vehicle was sent to find them," he stared at the ground. "When they got there…There had been a crash."

Sarah's heart stopped beating and she swayed on her feet, gripping the table in the entry way for support. Casey took half a step forward and gripped her arm.

"Walker-"

"What were they thinking?" she whispered. Confusion flashed across Casey's face. "We've utterly ruined this man's life. Now he's in the hands of the enemy-"

"Walker-" Casey sounded exasperated, but Sarah continued to talk over him, her eyes distant and unfocused.

"They'll torture him, and when he gives in…" she dragged in a breath and stared at the monitor in the living room. "What did the general say?" It took Casey half a second longer to respond; completely caught off guard by this emotional rollercoaster Sarah seemed to have forced him to join her on.

"I- she- Well," he took a deep breath and moved toward the couch, arms crossed over his chest. Sarah watched him, still holding herself up by the small table.

"What? What's the status on the search Casey? What are they doing to find Chuck?" her tone was accusatory.

"They're doing everything they can but-" Sarah's eyes hardened, threatening him to finish his statement. Casey plowed on, "There's nothing, Walker, nothing. He's nowhere. The driver died on impact, it's a virtually unused highway, and there's no trace that anyone was even there. The vehicle that impacted with the SUV, even that's gone." Sarah let go of the table and put her hands on her hips, incredulous.

"Who would take the other vehicle? That seems like a huge task. They must have known another car would be on its way…" she was momentarily sidetracked from her emotions by this incredible feat. "Who could pull something like that off? They must have needed a tow truck…I mean-"

"Walker, we've got people on it, but it just…" he trailed off, not sure how to break this to her. "There's nothing to go on. Unless whoever took Chuck makes a demand…"

"We've got nothing," she finished the horrible sentence for him. She stared down at her hands. Casey rolled his head, stretching his neck. He looked at the clock. It was nearing two in the morning. He sighed.

"Where do you want to start?" Sarah lifted her head and stared at Casey, gauging his tone. He held eye contact. "It _is_ a matter of national security, you know."

A small smile appeared on Sarah's lips in response.

_I was blindfolded  
But now I'm seeing  
My mind was closing  
Now I'm believing  
I finally know just  
What it means  
To let some one in  
To see the side of me  
That no one does  
Or ever will  
So if you're ever lost and  
Find yourself all alone  
I'd search forever  
Just to__ bring you home  
Here and now _

_This I__ vow_

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Love it? Like it? Hate it? Let me know. All comments _are_ appreciated.


	3. Set Fire to the Third Bar

_I find the map and draw a straight line  
Over rivers, farms, and state lines  
The distance from 'A' to where you'd be  
It's only finger-lengths that I see  
I touch the place where I'd find your face  
My finger in creases of distant dark places_

The first thing Chuck was aware of when he came to was the back of the chair digging into his spine.

_Great, _he thought,_ kidnapped and uncomfortable._

He slowly lifted his head to take in his surroundings. He blinked rapidly to clear the spots that danced across his vision. There was nothing special about this room. It looked, Chuck imagined, as any other room used for holding a kidnap victim would. Without moving his head excessively he could see bare concrete walls, concrete support posts, concrete floor, no windows, and one light bulb. Luckily for Chuck, someone had thought to leave the light on for him. Something struck him as odd, however, as he continued surveying the room.

There was no door.

But how could that be?

Chuck willed himself not to panic as the thought of being cemented into this room flashed across his brain. Maybe there wasn't even anyone here. Maybe they tied him up and left him here and if anyone wanted to find him…

No. That didn't make sense.

Did it?

Chuck's head throbbed in time with his elevated heart rate. Now that he was awake and mostly alert, he could feel blood caked on the side of his head and neck. He tried not to think about it, because blood made him a little woozy. Instead he rolled his shoulder, attempting to stretch out some stiff muscles as best he could while his hands were tied behind the chair. His feet were securely fastened to the legs of the chair, he noted as he tried to stretch his legs. The chair was also bolted to the floor. These guys were thorough. The slight fog in his head caused his mind to wander and he wondered what time it was.

Muffled voices behind him startled him out of his thoughts. Something banged against the wall and several pairs of feet were clanking down a metal stair case.

Ah, so they faced him away from the door to disorient him. Clever. Not that he needed much more disorientation than what his head trauma provided.

"Mr. Bartowski!" the same voice that had tranquilized him appeared just behind Chuck's head. "So glad to see you're awake! You had us a bit worried." He patted Chuck's shoulder. "Good to see you're a tough guy after all." The man's voice was much too loud and much too chipper for Chuck's liking.

"Wh- what do you want?" Chuck managed, trying to focus his vision. The man finally stepped around the chair into Chuck's line of sight. Chuck tried not to flinch as he looked at the man. His face was covered by a smooth white mask, reminiscent of the Phantom of the Opera. Masks like that had always given Chuck the willies and he never could pinpoint why.

He sure had a reason now.

"Right down to business, a good quality Mr. Bartowski," the man kneeled in front of Chuck's chair and rested a hand on each armrest. "Well you see, what I want is a little complicated and mostly simple. I understand that you are very important to some very important people in the government, and I happen to be in need of a retirement fund." The mask shifted on the man's face as he grinned from underneath it. Chuck couldn't decide if he was scared, annoyed or pissed off. The government was once again screwing up his life, while it was already in the process of screwing up his life.

Super.

_I hang my coat up in the first bar  
there is no peace that I've found so far  
the laughter penetrates my silence  
as drunken men find flaws in science_

Casey had opted to get some shut eye on the couch while Sarah continued to peruse the NSA satellites looking for anything that could lead them to where Chuck might have been taken. But whoever these people were, they knew what they were doing. The satellites hadn't even picked anything up from the crash. That meant that these guys were either exceptionally lucky…

Or it was an inside job.

Sarah's heart felt like it was trying to escape from her chest as she considered the possibility that Fulcrum had Chuck. Maybe by relocating him they had put him at even greater risk; making it obvious he was of importance. She took a deep breath and tried to clear her head. Thinking those kinds of thoughts wasn't going to bring Chuck home. She stared at the time on the computer: _5:37 AM_. She sighed. The sun would be coming up soon and they were no closer to finding Chuck than they had been three and a half hours ago. To be honest, she wasn't even sure what they should be looking for or where they should be looking. Fulcrum was an obvious choice, but that didn't really mean anything. There were no known locations on any of the Fulcrum agents they knew about.

"Find anything?" Sarah nearly fell off her chair hearing Casey's voice beside her head. He'd been looking over her shoulder for a good thirty seconds and she hadn't even noticed. He straightened up and took a step back, chuckling. "Sorry Walker, I scare ya?" Sarah didn't get a chance to respond as a monitor on her left flickered to life.

"Good morning angels," a disembodied voice broke through the silence. Casey's brow furrowed and he looked at Sarah.

"What did you do Walker?" he asked.

"I didn't do anything Casey, it just turned on," she fumbled with the computer controls for a moment.

"Don't bother," the voice told her. She stopped moving. "We've disabled your controls. Wouldn't want you interrupting with something silly like a phone call to your boss." Casey glared at the voice coming from the monitor.

"Why is there no picture?" he half-whispered to Sarah.

"Because we didn't want to shock you, Major Casey," the voice explained. Suddenly the monitor came fully to life and a man in a smooth white mask dominated the picture. "I'm afraid it took some doing to get your numbers and such from your boy Chuck here." He stepped out of the line of the camera to reveal Chuck, slumped in a chair, unconscious. "My boys and I couldn't understand why he wouldn't want to be rescued…but then I suppose his head injury might have had added some confusion to the situation…" The masked man appeared in the frame again on Chuck's right side; mask displaced by what Sarah was sure was a wicked grin. Both agents gritted their teeth. Chuck had obviously been tortured for the information that had allowed this man to contact them. That didn't bode well for Chuck's survival probabilities.

"And what is it that you want us to do, Mr.….?" Casey spoke through clenched jaws, willing himself not to punch a hole in the monitor.

The masked man thought for a moment.

"Why don't you just call me Iago, Major Casey?" The man grinned under his mask again.

"Iago?" Casey snorted, "So what, you were a theater geek who couldn't quite hack it in Hollywood and you're taking it out on Bartowski?"

The man chuckled.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night Major." The man, Iago, lightly patted Chuck on the cheek before straightening up and facing the camera again. "What I want you to do, agents, is put together a retirement fund for me. I want twenty million dollars by the end of the day, or 'The Asset' dies."

Sarah could barely hear the man's voice over the blood rushing in her ears. This man, this ruthless, awful man, had Chuck. And he wanted money in exchange for him?! Sarah struggled to control her breathing. Casey snuck a quick glance at her and his eyes said everything: _calm down or this idiot might kill him just to hear you scream_. The man didn't appear to know that Chuck happened to have an extremely valuable piece of government technology in his head.

Either that or he was really good at not showing his cards.

They needed to know what this guy knew.

"Just what is it that makes you think we would pay you twenty million? Bartowski is just an analyst. The U.S. government doesn't negotiate with terrorists Iago," Casey kept his tone light, almost uninterested. The less they seemed to care about Chuck, hopefully the more this guy would leave him alone. It was a thin line to tread, however, because if he got too careless this guy was likely to just kill Chuck and cut his losses.

"Well you two crafty agents are just going to have to come up with something, now aren't you? It's really of no concern to me _how_ you get the money," he moved back to crouch beside Chuck, an arm slung around the back of the chair, "but I think our friend Chuck here would really appreciate it if you got it to me sooner, rather than later. Midnight is your deadline. I'll be checking in as time winds down." He turned to look at Chuck, smoothing his disheveled hair. Sarah ground her teeth to keep from screaming: _don't touch him you sick bastard!_

Iago turned back toward the camera and grinned beneath his mask. "Oh, and let's just keep this between us. If I get word that you've contacted anyone else about this," a knife appeared in his gloved hand, "Let's just say, Chuckie here won't live to hear about your screw up.

"Enjoy your morning agents."

The monitor went dead.

_Their words mostly noises  
Ghosts with just voices  
your words in my memory  
are like music to me_

Sarah let out a sharp breath and fought back tears. Casey pounded the desk with his fist and drew in a deep breath through his nostrils. Both agents stared at the matte black surface that was their lifeline to Chuck. The darkness in Casey's apartment was suddenly suffocating.

"You sure know your Shakespeare," Sarah said, making an attempt at levity. Casey turned ever so slightly to look at her.

"Yeah," was his only response. Neither one knew what they were going to do about this. They knew each other well enough to see it in the body language.

They were lost._  
_


	4. Set Fire to the Third Bar part 2

**A/N: Whoo! I'm back! Sorry for the delay! I didn't get all the snow days I was looking forward to, and then of course it's been Christmas time. Anyway, I hope all you faithful readers (thanks for the reviews by the way! They keep me going!) will be happy to know that I have worked out the ending! YAY! I haven't written out the chapters yet, but the end is in sight! Probably two more chapters to go here. **

**As always, a great big thanks to my beta buddy, mugglecastlover31, you're my hero. I couldn't do it without you! Any mistakes left are my own.**

**The song, once again, is "Set the Fire to the Third Bar" by Snow Patrol, because I couldn't work all the lyrics into the last chapter. **

**I do not own the song or the show. They're on loan.  
**

**I hope you enjoy this chapter!  
**

* * *

_I'm miles from where you are,  
I lay down on the cold ground  
I, I pray that something picks me up  
and sets me down in your warm arms  
_

From now on, Chuck decided he needed to cut his alarm clock some slack.

A bucket of cold water being thrown directly into his face was not a pleasant way to be woken. The icy water dripped out of his hair and clothing and onto the rough concrete as he gasped for breath.

"Wakey, wakey Mr. Bartowski," Iago said, crouching in front of the chair. He slapped Chuck lightly on the cheek to bring him around. "We've got a busy day ahead of us; I wouldn't want you to miss out." He grinned under his creepy mask, and Chuck tried to control his shivering as he glared at the man.

"Wa-was that…re-really neces-sary?" he gasped out between chattering teeth. There must have been ice in that water. It certainly didn't help that the air conditioning was on full blast. Iago shrugged.

"Maybe not. But I've always wanted to try it. It really is as fun as it looks," he patted Chuck on the head and rose to a standing position. He circled slowly around to stand behind Chuck, placing both hands on the back of the chair. Chuck tried to focus on calming his shivers, but was finding the task impossible.

"Tell me Mr. Bartowski, do you think the agents assigned to you enjoy your company?" Chuck turned his head, trying to see the masked man.

"Wh-what?" _Where did that come from?_ Chuck wondered to himself. Iago slid a hand across the top of the chair and wandered farther from Chuck, crossing his arms behind his back. He meandered to the corner of the room that held the electronic equipment for the video transmissions. He stopped, facing a monitor.

"I suppose I mean, is saving your life worth it to these people?" Chuck faltered. The question sparked images of Sarah in his mind. He wondered what she was doing. She was probably worried sick and he mentally kicked himself for getting himself into a situation that would distress her. Chuck willed his brain to function at normal speed instead of what felt like reverse. What was this maniac getting at?

"T-to Sarah and Ca-Casey? Or the g-government?" he hoped this clarification wouldn't give anything away. Iago didn't seem to realize exactly why Chuck was valuable to the U.S. government. He needed to keep it that way.

Iago chuckled. It was a hollow, echoing sound from behind the mask.

"Having to make that distinction rather says it all, doesn't it Mr. Bartowski?" He wandered back toward Chuck, arms still crossed behind him. "I suppose then, that it's safe to say they will do everything in their power to bring you home safe and sound?"

Chuck didn't respond and waited for Iago to continue.

"Except," Iago paused, pointing a finger as though he was sharing a theory, "they are the ones who sent you away in the first place, aren't they?" he was close to Chuck again. Chuck did the best he could to scoot as far away from the mask as he could. "So maybe you're more expendable than I've accounted for." He slowly pulled away from Chuck, straightening up and clasping his hands behind him again.

"I w-would have th-thought a smart guy like y-you would have fi-figured all that out before he got himself into a sit-situation like this," Chuck sniped. He was getting sick of this guy and his creepy need to be so close. He needed some breathing room and time to collect himself.

The eerie chuckle was distant now. Iago had moved toward the back of the room and seated himself on the bottom step of the steel staircase.

"Maybe I have Mr. Bartowski." Chuck swore he could hear the grin in Iago's voice, "Maybe I'm just trying to mess with your head." Chuck restrained himself from letting out a sigh of frustration.

"I th-think you've d-done enough damage to my head f-for one day, thanks v-very much."

This elicited another chuckle, followed by a dramatic groan as Iago hoisted himself to his feet and turned to go up the stairs.

"I'd suggest you rest that head of yours Mr. Bartowski. We've got a long day ahead of us." The heavy door slammed shut and Chuck was left with his thoughts.

What the hell did this guy really want?

_After I have travelled so far  
We'd set the fire to the third bar  
We'd share each other like an island  
Until exhausted, close our eyelids  
And dreaming, pick up from  
The last place we left off  
Your soft skin is weeping  
A joy you can't keep in_

Sarah fought her emotions as she listened to Casey's angered breathing echoing in the quiet apartment. She'd been staring off into space while Casey fiddled with the computer. This was unreal. Chuck was supposed to be safely on his way to his new life and she was supposed to be dealing with losing him. Not fighting to save his life.

The government sure knew how to royally screw things up.

"Alright," Casey began, leaning over the desk next to Sarah. "Let's get started. I've got a trace going on the video connection-"

"You do?" Sarah interrupted, snapping out of her trance and turning to stare at the agent. "How is that possible? Didn't Iago kill the signal?"

Casey grunted. "Would have thought so. Maybe he wants us to find him, because the signal is still going strong. It's being routed through various ISP addresses all over the world." He turned to make eye contact with Sarah. "But it could take hours before we get anything concrete, and we may never get a location if this guy knows what he's doing." She sighed. She needed to pull herself together and be helpful.

"Okay, let's think. We need to narrow down the potential locations where they could be holding Chuck. We can use the footage from the video transmission to try and identify some specific things about the location and maybe Iago." She paused, lost in thought for a moment. "How long has Chuck been missing now?"

Casey straightened up and checked his watch.

"It's almost seven now, so roughly eight and a half hours," he told her. "Why is that important?" Sarah ran a hand through her already tousled hair.

"Well, we can make some rough calculations on how far this guy could have gotten, based on what kind of vehicle was used to transport him from the crash site and how much time passed between the crash and the video transmission. It won't be exact, obviously, because there are so many scenarios," she paused to grab and spread out a map of the greater Los Angeles county area, and pointed to an area near the crash. "There's a ranger station here; a mile east of the crash site. If any sort of aircraft had passed over head, whoever was posted in that station would have heard something. If we do a little digging, and make a few small assumptions-"

"We can get a rough area of how far the kidnappers could have gotten. I get it," Casey interrupted. "Stop explaining and just do it." He wheeled a chair over to another workstation and sat down. "I'll review the video and you work on the math." He grabbed a pair of headphones and slipped them over his ears, clicking on the monitor in front of him.

Sarah sighed in relief. There was no way she could handle hearing or watching that video for a prolonged period. She would certainly lose it and if that happened, she'd be of no use to anyone.

She settled in at her workstation, spreading the maps and data they had out around her.

Hopefully they would come up with something that would get them somewhere. Anything that could get them from the nothingness they were at now. The bottom line though, was that they needed to know more about this man, Iago.

Who was the man behind the mask?

How did he know about Chuck?

And where the hell did he go?

_I'm miles from where you are,  
I lay down on the cold ground  
And I, I pray that something picks me up  
and sets me down in your warm arms_

_

* * *

_Like it? Love it? Hate it? I'd love to hear why!_  
_


	5. Holding On

**A/N: Wow! I am SO sorry for leaving all you faithful readers hanging! I hate when authors never update, so I understand everyone's anguish. So, so, so sorry! **

**A gigantic thanks to all of those that reviewed and added this story to their alerts/favorites, it gives me such a lovely warm and fuzzy feeling.  
**

**Hopefully this chapter will make up for the delay I put you all through. I definitely put the most time and energy into this one, I hope it's up to standards.**

**Unfortunately my loyal beta was extremely busy this weekend, so all mistakes are totally my own. Please help me out and tell me if you notice any huge, glaring errors! I apologize in advance.**

**Disclaimer: The song interludes for this chapter are from the song "Broken" by Lifehouse. I do not own this song, I am not making any money off of this, and I have no money. Please don't sue. I also have no rights to the TV show Chuck. There wouldn't have been a month gap between new episodes if I did. **

**Okay, enough from me.**

**I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

* * *

_The broken clock is a comfort, it helps me sleep tonight  
Maybe it can stop tomorrow from stealing all my time  
I am here still waiting though I still have my doubts  
I am damaged at best, like you've already figured out  
_

He sat silently in front of the widescreen monitor, smiling wickedly to himself.

"_What is your handler's name?_" he heard himself say. The digital version of himself paced slowly back and forth behind the dazed and frightened man.

"_I- what are you talking about? What's a 'handler'?_" the frightened man nearly shouted. His digital self nodded to a man off camera. The man stepped out and viciously punched the frightened man in the stomach, causing the man to collapse into himself and gasp for air that was no longer there. The aggressor stepped back out of frame.

"_Mr. Bartowski,"_ his digital self chuckled as he circled around in front of the man. "_Mr. Bartowski,"_ he used one finger to lift the winded man's head to meet his eyes. "_I don't recommend lying to me. That will only make this experience more uncomfortable for you."_

Maybe he had watched too many action movies because he sure was good at this bad guy thing. He'd never felt more alive in his entire life. Having such control over everything…it was exhilarating. He sat back in his chair, clasping his hands behind his head as the video played on. His plan was going wonderfully. He had the agents scrambling for something he knew they'd never attain and this man on the screen was suffering just as he should be.

He couldn't care less about the dollar amount he'd asked for. It was a ridiculous amount. There was not a person on the planet that needed that much cash all for himself.

It was just another way to distress the agents.

Payback is a bitch.

_­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­ I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing  
With a broken heart that's still beating  
In the pain, there is healing  
In your name I find meaning  
So I'm holdin' on, I'm holdin' on, I'm holdin' on  
I'm barely holdin' on to you  
_

Chuck couldn't believe his luck.

His horrible, rotten, hellish luck.

Lucky him his roommate in college happened to work for the CIA.

Lucky him his brain was so special it could absorb a stupid government supercomputer.

Lucky him the government sucked at confidential transfers.

Lucky him his nose itched and his hands were tied behind his back.

He carefully attempted to shake a runaway water droplet out of his eye without jostling his sore body too much.

He was resting the best he could, drooping his head and resting his chin on his chest. His head throbbed from the crash and the left over effects of the tranquilizer; his mouth and jaw were sore from several well aimed punches and his insides felt like they'd been replaced with sharp rocks. His arms, legs and back were completely stiff from being strapped in the same position for so many hours. He had no way of knowing exactly how many hours he'd been in this concrete prison and he mentally cursed Casey for taking his GPS watch. It obviously hadn't mattered if he was "on the grid" or not, Iago already knew where he was going to be.

He felt like he hadn't slept in days. His thoughts drifted to Morgan and Ellie and, for the first time since this horrifying transfer had began, he was actually relieved that they thought he was dead. That would be less painful than knowing he'd been kidnapped by a maniac who, Chuck was starting to feel, was never going to let him go alive.

Instinctively, Chuck knew the motivations behind his capture had little to do with the money Iago had asked for. The man clearly knew his way around a computer. It would be relatively easy for someone with Iago's skill set to steal a few million dollars from the government and get away clean. On the same track, there was no reason to torture Chuck for the information he wanted. He knew that Chuck had handlers and he knew that Chuck was being transferred, so he must have been able to find basic information like Casey's address and phone number. Looking up Casey's information in the yellow pages would have been the simplest and most obvious route for a man who clearly knew Chuck worked for the government.

These realizations had led Chuck to one obvious and sickening conclusion:

Iago had no interest in the twenty million dollars.

He wanted to kill Chuck and most likely Sarah and Casey as well.

Iago was going to lure Sarah and Casey right into his trap and kill them all.

Oh yeah, today was definitely his lucky day.

_The broken locks were a warning you got inside my head  
I tried my best to be guarded, I'm an open book instead  
I still see your reflection inside of my eyes  
That are looking for a purpose, they're still looking for life_

Sarah's eyes blurred and her vision swam as she tried to focus on the last equation. The county map was laid out in front of her, now covered with various colored rings and numbers. She had worked out an equation for ten scenarios and escape routes. It had taken some doing to get the number that small. She and Casey had debated the probability of over 30 scenarios before eventually trimming the number to a more manageable amount.

It left them with five large circles that barely overlapped, and roughly 300 square miles of land where Chuck could be.

And that was hoping that Iago hadn't had the time, patience or resources to charter a plane, along with several other intuitive leaps the agents had had to make.

It wasn't exactly the result Sarah had been hoping for after thirteen laborious hours, but she supposed it was better than searching the entire country.

"Good evening angels," Iago's too cheery voice filtered through the room as the commandeered monitor blinked on. The camera was once again close to his masked face, taking up the whole picture.

Casey had been working through satellite and other government data and had a long list of details on the desk next to him that he quickly covered. There was no telling what, if anything, Iago could see. If they showed their hand now, the whole game could be lost.

"As I'm sure you are aware, time for our friend is running short," he glanced down at his watch. "Four short hours until the deadline." He grinned up at the camera and pretended to scope out the room. "It sure doesn't look like you've done anything about my money," he shook his head. "Not very smart agents."

Sarah and Casey had already worked out a response to this.

"We figured you wouldn't want to be hauling that much money around in cash," Sarah explained. "We're setting up an offshore account and sending money to it that has been siphoned from unused government funds. It's slow going though; we may need more time to get the full amount."

Both agents watched in anticipation as Iago tapped an index finger on the chin of his white mask.

"Very clever agents, I knew you'd think of something," he paused, stepping away from the camera. "I'm afraid, however, that I can't grant you any more time. All the money by midnight or Chuckie-poo dies." Chuck became visible in the background as Iago moved out of frame. A large man in an equally creepy white mask was holding his head up by grasping a handful of his hair. Chuck looked dazed.

Sarah and Casey exchanged a look. Iago was continuing to torture Chuck, and he didn't seem all that concerned with the money. This didn't bode well for Chuck and the agents. Iago was clearly more interested in hurting Chuck and tormenting the agents than getting the money he had asked for.

In other words, they had even less leverage than they had originally thought.

"Four hours and counting agents," Iago stepped in front of the camera again. "I'll be sending you coordinates where you can leave my money. Don't be late." The monitor went dark.

Casey ground his teeth as he stared into the blank screen. He turned to look at Sarah and found her looking lost in thought.

"Walker?"

"Casey, play the recording of Iago's original transmission." Casey stared at her.

"Walker, we've only got four hours left, we've got to-"

"Just play the tape Casey!" she shouted at him. He narrowed his eyes. "I know what I'm doing," she finished. He glared at her and let out a quiet grunt in response as he cued up the recording.

"What exactly are we looking for here Walker?"

Sarah ignored him as she scanned through the transmission. Casey looked back and forth between Sarah's determined face and the recording. He was beginning to wonder if she was losing it. He had recently become worried that she was too close to this particular assignment. He believed her feelings for Bartowski posed an imminent threat to national security. Not to mention their personal safety.

"There!" Sarah slapped the play button.

"_I want twenty million dollars by the end of the day, or 'The Asset' dies," _Iago's voice announced through the speakers.

Casey rubbed a hand across his forehead.

"So what Walker? He didn't forget the amount he asked for, what's your point?" He turned to look at Sarah.

Her grin was so wide it was a little frightening.

"Iago called Chuck 'The Asset'," she stated, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Casey was exhausted and felt a million steps behind. "So?"

"So, the only people that refer to Chuck as the Asset are government employees, specifically Intersect employees!"

The light suddenly went on in Casey's mind.

"Iago's team knew exactly how to avoid the satellites. They removed all the evidence from the scene of the accident-"

"-they knew about the transfer because they're on the inside. Iago must be on the Intersect team," Sarah finished up.

"How the hell did we not see that before?" Casey was incredulous.

"It doesn't matter," Sarah shut off the video and went back to her map. Five large, brightly colored circles overshadowed the landscape. "How will that information get us closer to Chuck?"

"Walker, don't you get it? If Iago works for us, well _worked_, for us, he'll be in the database."

"How does that help us Casey? We don't know his name or even what he looks like-"

"But like you said, he must have worked on the Intersect Walker, how else would he know about Bartowski? Or the transfer? That's a pretty short list of people to work through..." he trailed off as the excitement of their discovery wore off and he realized that it would take more time than they had to work through even a short list of people.

Sarah was no longer listening anyway.

"Casey, look at this," she said, staring intently at a spot within the green circle on her map. Casey had the distinct feeling of being trapped on Sarah's rollercoaster again. He slid his chair over next to her.

"What is it?" he asked, not sure if he was really ready for the answer she might give.

"Look at this," she tapped a finger on a rectangular block in the middle of nowhere, "a building in the middle of the desert. There aren't even any access roads to it." Casey watched Sarah's face. Her eyes were distant, unfocused. Suddenly she was clacking away at the computer.

"What are you doing?" Casey knew he was definitely on the rollercoaster now.

"I'm putting the coordinates of this building into the new Intersect," she said matter-of-factly, trying and failing to hide the tension in her voice.

The computer whirred as it processed her request, the screen flashing "_Searching…"_ over and over.

Casey was losing faith with every flash.

Sarah was losing sanity.

The computer let out a soft "_beep."_

"_One result found_", the monitor told them.

Sarah nearly broke the mouse she clicked so fiercely on the "display results" button.

Neither agent could believe their sudden luck. 14 hours of work and they finally had a lead.

"It's him. It has to be," Sarah demanded as she turned to Casey.

Casey was already out of his chair, dressing in tactical gear.

"Get the lead out Walker, we haven't got much time to put this thing together," he informed her as he zipped up a Kevlar vest.

Sarah took down the information on the screen as quickly as she could.

"I'm coming Chuck, I'm coming," she whispered to the monitor.

_I'm hangin' on another day  
Just to see what you throw my way  
And I'm hanging on to the words you say  
You said that I will be OK_

_The broken lights on the freeway left me here alone  
I may have lost my way now, haven't forgotten my way home_

_I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing  
with a broken heart that's still beating  
In the pain there is healing  
In your name I find meaning  
So I'm holdin' on, I'm holdin' on, I'm holdin' on ,  
I'm barely holdin' on to you_

_

* * *

_Like it? Love it? Hate it? I'd love to know your thoughts!


	6. We've Been Waiting

**A/N: Hello to all my faithful readers and reviewers! I just love you people, you're like crack: addicting! **

**I'm back with another chapter and it turned out WAY longer than I thought it would be, so I think there will be a few more chapters to go. But have no fear! The end is in sight!**

**My dear beta is once again super busy attempting to conquer the world, so all mistakes are my own. Help me out once again if you notice any obvious errors.**

** This chapter is dedicated to my lovely beta, mugglecastlover31, because she bugs me about continuing this (and she's awesome!)! Thanks girl!**

**I don't own any of these characters, I'm just borrowing them to rough them up a little. Iago and his goons are mine though...that should scare everyone a little. *grins***

**Hope you enjoy!  
**

* * *

Hearing Sarah's voice nearly brought tears to his eyes.

Or maybe it was the meaty hand yanking on his hair that did that.

Chuck could hear the tension in her voice, the anxiety.

It couldn't end like this. He was not going to die miles away from the love of his life, in the hands of a psycho.

His luck may have been the worst ever, but he had always felt that he would eventually get his happy ending.

He had to.

The laws of karma dictated it as such.

Hearing Sarah stressed though, this late in the game…he knew it didn't bode well for him. He wished he could see her, but there was no monitor in his line of vision.

Iago's voice brought Chuck back into the present.

"…Don't be late." Chuck watched as Iago hit a button to end the transmission. Iago chuckled to himself and sauntered over to Chuck.

"Poor little Charles," he clasped his hands behind his back and began a slow pace in front of Chuck's chair, "it seems to me that your friends are not going to make the deadline," he shook his head dramatically. "It's too bad really. You've become such a beloved toy." Iago's men thought that was pretty humorous and Chuck received a sharp slap to the back of his head. He did his best to glare at the assailant he couldn't see.

"I guess I can tell you," Iago continued in a hushed _I've got a secret_ voice, "I never wanted that money." He stopped pacing and crouched close to Chuck's ear. "I just wanted to torture and trick a few government agents," he stood and resumed his pacing. "You see Mr. Bartowski, the government screwed me. It's a long and rather boring story, so I won't get into the messy details, you just need to know this," he turned to face Chuck. His mask moved again as the ominous invisible grin crossed his face, "the story has a happy, if not somewhat gruesome ending."

The grin stayed as Iago stepped closer to Chuck.

"It's a powerful thing Mr. Bartowski, being in control of one's own destiny. A dangerously powerful thing." He patted Chuck roughly on the cheek and motioned for the men to exit.

"I just know you're going to love the surprise ending," Iago whispered. He stood and made his way out of the room, his footsteps echoing eerily off the metal staircase.

Chuck tried to focus on his breathing. Otherwise he was going to hyperventilate. _Surprise ending?_ _What the hell did that mean?_ he wondered to himself. He understood that Iago wanted to kill them all, so where was the surprise? He couldn't honestly believe Chuck was stupid enough to think that anyone who came near Iago was going to get out of the situation alive.

So what was he talking about?

He didn't have the mental capacity to figure out Iago's cryptic mind games.

Chuck legitimately had never been this scared in his life.

He was scared and yet, a part of him was thrilled. If- No, _when_ Sarah and Casey managed a miracle and found him, his life wouldn't be over. He knew the U.S. government well enough to know that a mishap of this magnitude was going to have a serious ripple effect. His relocation was going to have to be seriously reconsidered.

These and other thoughts were the only thing keeping him going at this point.

The thought that maybe he would get to see Morgan, Ellie and Awesome again, to tell them all he loved them and what a huge part of him they were.

The thought that he would see Sarah again. That this time, he wasn't going to hold back. He would say all the words he had been robbed of saying.

All he needed was to hear her voice, see her face, and feel the warmth of her skin…

He wouldn't allow himself to see any other scenario except the one that included his happy ending.

Everything would work out.

It had to.

* * *

The phone call to the general had been chilly at best.

She was livid.

At this point, Sarah and Casey would be lucky to keep their jobs, let alone this assignment.

But as their SUV bounced along the rough desert terrain, Sarah didn't give a shit about her job.

She just needed him safe.

She needed him back.

"How long?" she demanded of Casey. He glanced sideways at her as he struggled to maintain speed and keep all four tires on the road.

"I'd say about five minutes past the last time you asked Walker," he ground out, wrenching the steering wheel to avoid a cactus that appeared in the beam of their headlights. He glanced her way again, but her eyes were glued to the road; watching the darkness and waiting for the building to appear.

"Are you sure you can handle this Walker? If Bartowski is-"

"Don't," she snapped. "Don't even think that." Her voice was quiet but her words deadly. "He is alive. We are going to save him Casey. So just…don't." He didn't dare glance her way, for he knew the expression her face held could melt flesh if she really put effort into it.

"Walker-"

"There!" she shouted, nearly glued to the windshield. "There Casey, that's it!" Casey picked up the secure radio and notified the other vehicles in the caravan before slowing to a safer and quieter speed. Casey shut off the headlights and pulled to the side of the road. He cut the engine and willed Sarah to stay put with a sharp gaze. Barking orders into the radio, they began to formulate their plan of attack.

"This place is huge. We'll have to use heat sensors to figure out where they're keeping Bartowski," Casey told Sarah, leaning over the center console to see the whole building.

"Let's do it fast," Sarah replied looking more anxious by the second, "if we take too long, Iago will surely find out we're here. If that happens-"

"-he's likely to just shoot Bartowski and cut his losses. I know the drill Walker," Casey finished, gripping the door handle. "Stop yappin' and start moving."

They organized the rest of the troops and swept forward across the desert, surrounding the building. All teams had been fitted with night vision to battle the darkness, and each team had a Marine with a heat sensor camera. Every weapon in the bunch had been equipped with a silencer. They didn't know what they were walking into, and they certainly didn't want to tip off whatever army Iago had waiting.

"On my signal, make silent entry," Casey whispered into his radio. Sarah, next to him, had her gun raised with the safety already clicked off.

"Go," Casey whispered. Casey, Sarah and a young Marine made entry through what would probably have been considered the front door of this concrete block of a building. If Sarah hadn't known better, she would have sworn it was a maximum security prison.

The marine was behind Sarah holding their heat sensor and scanning the building for signs of life.

"All the rooms in this corridor are empty sir," she whispered to Casey as they swept the first hallway. He nodded to the darkness.

"Major Casey," a voice crackled over the radio, "we've got life in the southeast section of level one and a faint reading from subfloor one."

Sarah turned to meet Casey's eyes. He did the same, but their eyes were unreadable through the night vision goggles. It didn't matter. Both knew what the other was thinking anyway.

"That's got to be Chuck," Sarah whispered, barely able to keep herself from sprinting in the direction of the stairs to the subfloor. Casey held up a hand to halt their movement.

"Copy. Blue and Red teams, handle the goons on level one, Green team will locate the target," Casey whispered to his radio.

"Roger that. Over and out," the voice replied.

Casey turned to Sarah.

"Walker, can you handle this? I give the orders here. If this gets hairy, we're out of here, understood?"

Even through night vision goggles, Sarah could tell his eyes and face were stern. She didn't dare bring up never leaving a man behind. She wanted to get to Chuck, and she wanted to get there now.

"I understand Casey," she said in as stable a voice as she could manage.

With that, the threesome moved forward into the enveloping blackness; the screen from the camera their only light source.

* * *

As soon as the outer doors had been breached, alarms had gone crazy in Iago's command center.

"Boss," one of his masked men called, "they're here."

Iago slammed his coffee cup on the desk and leapt from his chair.

"Well, well," he said, examining the video feed of the teams in the corridors, "that certainly was faster than I anticipated."

"Shall we mobilize sir? Protect the asset?" the guard sounded agitated. Iago's unnatural grin shifted his mask.

"Patience my dear boy. Let the little moths draw nearer to the flame before we extinguish them," he smiled, patting the guard cheerfully on the shoulder.

"But sir, the asset. They will certainly have heat sensors and go straight for him," the stress level was palpable in the guard's voice.

"And that," Iago began, snapping a full magazine into his gun, "is why I'm headed to our friend." He glanced at the monitor again which now showed Sarah, Casey and the marine creeping along a hallway.

"Let the endgame begin."

* * *

Chuck pretended not to hear the footsteps because there was only one set.

And they were moving far too slowly to be his rescue.

He knew, from this day forward, the sound of footfalls on metal would haunt him.

"Mr. Bartowski, it's so good to see you," Iago chuckled at his own joke. "Kidnapper humor."

Chuck was so emotionally exhausted that his response tumbled from his mouth unwittingly.

"What? No goons to do the dirty work for you this time? Thank goodness, I could use a break."

It took Chuck several minutes to figure out why his face hurt so much before he righted himself enough to see Iago shaking his head and wiping blood off the butt of his gun.

"Really Mr. Bartowski, I would have thought, after all this time, that you would have learned the obvious lesson," he lifted his masked face to Chuck's freshly bloodied one. "Don't anger the person that has you tied to a chair. It produces…unhealthy results." He took two steps closer to Chuck and crouched in front of the chair, resting the gun on his knee and eyeballing Chuck for several moments. Out of this whole experience, Chuck hated when he crouched in front of him the most. It reminded him of being a kid; when adults got down to his eye level. It always made him feel inferior and he knew that was Iago's aim as well.

"Besides, you should be pleased. I came down to give you good news!" his mask shifted and Chuck wished more than ever that his hands were free so he could yank off that stupid mask and wipe that smirk off his face. Iago stood in response to Chuck's icy glare.

"Well if you don't want me to share the happy news, I suppose we could just stand here and stare at each other." he examined his gun. Leaning against one of the concrete pillars that had been keeping Chuck company; he crossed his arms and stared at Chuck.

Chuck glared back. He wasn't going to give this psycho the satisfaction of hearing him beg for this "happy news".

Iago sighed dramatically and checked his watch.

"Much as I'd love to continue our staring contest, the fun is probably going to start soon and I feel it would be unfair to leave you in the dark," he meandered closer to Chuck, pulling a hand held computer from his pants pocket. The screen flickered to life as Iago held it in front of Chuck's face.

"Look Mr. Bartowski," he grinned, "your cavalry is here."

Chuck's head swam as he watched Sarah, Casey and another woman make their way down a dark corridor.

They came.

And Iago knew they'd be here.

He planned it that way.

Chuck thought for a moment he might be sick. Iago turned the screen back to himself.

"They're a little earlier than I expected," he shrugged. "No matter I suppose," he clicked the screen off. "The end result will be the same," he grinned again.

Chuck was sick and tired of this guy and his insane happiness.

"Alright," Chuck sighed, "I give. What in the hell did the government do to you to turn you into a raving psychopath?"

Iago actually laughed out loud at Chuck's brazen question.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. It's much too late for story time now Mr. Bartowski. We've got guests on the way. I'm sure there will be time for that later," Iago stepped forward and slapped a strip of duct tape over Chuck's mouth. "Right now it's quiet time."

* * *

The marine tapped Sarah on the shoulder and motioned to the next door on their right. Sarah put a hand on Casey's shoulder, bringing him to a halt.

"We're here," she whispered as softly as she could. Casey nodded before motioning that the marine should stay beside the door, just in case. The trio flattened themselves against the wall on either side of the door: Sarah and the marine on one side, Casey on the other. Casey counted down from three on his fingers. At zero, he wrenched the door open. Sarah swiftly moved into the room, sweeping the surroundings with her gun. Her footsteps echoed around the pitch black room and she realized she had stepped onto a metal gantry.

Casey was right on her heels after leaning back out the door to instruct the young marine to call for backup.

Sarah yanked off her night vision. It was useless in the room, as there was no light source for the goggles to amplify. And also as a safety precaution, because if someone decided to flip on the lights, she and Casey would both be momentarily blinded. She could hear Casey taking similar action right behind her. The door clicked shut behind Casey as Sarah took the first step down. Both agents were careful to make as little noise as possible.

When Casey's left shoe hit the ground at the bottom, every light in the room blinked to life. Even without the night vision, the agents reacted to the blinding lights, wincing at the change.

"Agents! Why, I'm so glad you could join us!" the too cheery voice that had commandeered their monitor was suddenly big as life and just across the room. "My, that was an awfully clichéd bad guy comment, wasn't it? I do apologize," the grin could be heard dripping from his every word. Sarah had the sinking feeling that they were right where he wanted them.

Even when they were ahead, they were behind.

Sarah's eyes finally adjusted and the room titled slightly at the image before her.

There was Iago in his eerie white mask, with a nine millimeter handgun pointed directly at Chuck Bartowski's heart.

"I suppose it would also be cliché to say 'I've been expecting you' but there it is," he laughed. Sarah and Casey regained their bearings and took slow steps forward toward Iago and Chuck.

"You're outnumbered here Iago," Casey said nonchalantly. "Our people are swarming in this building and they've already neutralized most of your guys. It's over. Give it up."

Iago laughed again.

"I'm sure that's true Major Casey, as I sense that you're a very honest guy, but I'm afraid I don't care much for the numbers." He cocked his head a moment. "Except, I suppose, for this number: one dead Intersect tech. That's a pretty good number. I certainly wish it could have been bigger. But you people make it so difficult to find your employees. Save for Mr. Bartowski here," he nudged Chuck in the chest with the gun. "It seems government protection really failed our Mr. Bartowski. Somebody has _got _to be losing their job for this screw up," he laughed again.

"What was your point Iago?" Casey questioned. "You really planned this elaborate kidnapping to kill a few government agents? You know as well as I do that a few dead operatives aren't going to shut down the machine." Casey was attempting to stall for time, hoping a plan would form or that backup would arrive. He and Sarah had inched forward and now stood less than five feet from the sides of Chuck's chair. To their surprise, Iago did not seem phased by their movement. They made sure they were spread wide enough that Iago would be required to turn his body to shoot both of them. This allowed for plenty of reaction time from either agent.

Sarah ground her teeth. This guy was a few pages short of a coloring book and Sarah was sick of his games and his laugh. She couldn't see Chuck's face, but she could tell he was conscious. She wanted to tell him they were almost home free, but she wasn't going to risk putting everything out there for this guy to take advantage of. She was compelled to say something though.

"Iago," Sarah's voice caused all three men's heads to turn her way. Her eyes locked with Chuck's and she nearly lost it. There were so many emotions in his eyes that she felt dizzy looking into them. She caught herself and forced her eyes away from his. "Iago, you've got this all wrong," she said, looking into the white mask. Iago cocked his head and Sarah sensed his eyes narrowing behind his mask. "Chuck is a victim of the Intersect project. He isn't a tech-"

"Walker," Casey's voice held a severe edge. She could see Chuck's eyes widen out of the corner of her eye. She hoped she was doing the right thing.

She ignored Casey and continued.

"He's not a tech. He _is_ the Intersect. The original one. It was downloaded into his brain without his knowledge by a CIA operative ex-roommate of his. Whatever the government did to you, it isn't Chuck's fault. If you hadn't kidnapped and tortured him, Chuck would have sympathized with you. He is a victim too, Iago. Killing him doesn't further your agenda. It just makes you a murderer."

The gun dipped ever so slightly in Iago's grip. His eyes were locked on Sarah's. Even with the mask, the look on his face was predictable: Sarah's figurative handprint from the mental slap she had just delivered was slowly fading.

Casey took a half step forward.

Iago's gun snapped back to its position over Chuck's heart. Sarah sucked in a not very silent breath.

"Oh agent Walker! It seems I have truly underestimated your little team's skills," he laughed heartily. "A human Intersect? They've been trying to develop that for years and have never gotten anywhere! Very good try though. I'm afraid, however," he clicked the safety off, "that these lies are of little to no importance to me."

He pulled the trigger.

Three gunshots echoed off the concrete walls.

* * *

Like it? Love it? Hate it? I just know everyone loves cliffhangers. So tell me how you feel. ;)


	7. Don't You Dare

**A/N: Well I thought you all deserved a special treat (I built a bridge over that cliff!), since I received so many awesome reviews and whatnot! Thanks to all who read and/or reviewed! ****Thanks to everyone who's hung with me this long. You're great!**

**I'm going on vacation for a week, so I figured it would be good to update before I left. It's kind of short, but it really needed to be. Don't fret, there will be more coming.  
**

**I kind of gave up on the song interludes, nothing really fit these last couple of chapters and consistency has never been a strong suit of mine anyway. We'll see if anything inspires me for the next couple of chapters...**

**My beta was busy kicking butt at a state dance competition, so all mistakes are my own once again. Feel free to let me know if I made a mistake, I'm getting better at not biting people for that.  
**

** I'm almost positive that Sarah is out of character, but that's because the show is being really dumb with her character currently and I'm not. So there. Casey may be a little out of character too, that I just can't seem to avoid. Sorry if that bothers you, but I really don't think it's so bad you notice. I'm just hyper-critical.  
**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy the next chapter! Thanks for reading!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Chuck. I'm just borrowing (and in some cases, fixing) the characters.  
**

* * *

Sarah's ears rang from the reverberations. She lowered her gun. Her heart was pounding, but time seemed to move in ultra slow motion as the events played out before her.

Iago stumbled and went down.

Casey turned to check on her, and then screamed something she couldn't hear.

Her eyes were locked on Chuck.

She watched as he took a painful breath before he slumped in his chair.

Then the world snapped to life.

"Walker!" Casey was kneeling beside Chuck's chair, attempting to lower the injured man to the ground and stop his bleeding. How he had gotten over to Chuck and untied him was beyond her comprehension.

"Get moving!" Casey shouted, "I need you to check Iago. Make sure he's neutralized."

Sarah had trouble tearing her eyes away from the dark red liquid that was oozing out from underneath Casey's hands and in between his fingers.

"WALKER!" Casey's voice made her jump and she jolted into action.

"Okay, alright," she forced out. She raised her gun and carefully approached Iago's motionless body. She willed her mind not to picture Chuck, bleeding to death mere steps away.

_Focus Sarah._

She watched Iago's chest for several seconds, keeping her gun trained on the now unmoving white mask. She stepped up and kicked the weapon from his hand before kneeling down to yank the mask off his face. She leaned over and listened for his breathing.

Nothing.

She checked his pulse.

"He's dead Casey," she commented dully. As if the two gaping holes right over his heart weren't enough of an indicator.

"Lovely," he said back sarcastically. His tone of voice raised Sarah's heart rate again.

Casey was tense.

A tense John Casey only spelled bad things for those around him.

Sarah quickly moved to kneel on Chuck's other side. Casey had packed all the emergency bandages and gauze he had onto Chuck's wound. The awful red color was visible through every layer.

"How is he?" she asked, unsure if she really wanted to know. Casey looked up and they locked eyes.

_Well he sure as hell isn't good,_ he silently informed her.

"The wound is bleeding a lot, but I think the bullet missed his heart," Casey explained. "The bad news is; there's no exit wound, which means the bullet is still in there causing damage." Sarah reached out to smooth Chuck's hair, sweeping a few stray strands off his forehead.

"In combination with his already weakened state, he needs a hospital very soon or he's not going to make it," Casey sighed.

They locked eyes again and Sarah immediately got on the radio.

"Green team has cleared subfloor one and needs a medic immediately," she barked.

There was a half second of unbearable static silence.

"Copy that green team, medics are already on their way and we've got a helo standing by," the familiar radio voice replied.

Sarah and Casey breathed a silent sigh of relief.

"Roger," Sarah replied, "target is acquired. What's the status on the rest of the building?"

"Building is clear, all suspects have been neutralized," said the voice.

"Copy that," Sarah affirmed. "Green team out."

Sarah and Casey's attention was drawn to the stairs as two medics carrying a backboard clattered their way down.

Chuck let out a small groan and Sarah's attention snapped back to his face. His eyelids fluttered but would not stay open.

"Chuck?" Sarah leaned close and called his name. "Chuck can you hear me?" He didn't respond and instead lapsed back into unconsciousness.

The medics moved in and were shoving the agents out of the way.

Sarah leaned close to Chuck again and whispered to him, "Don't you dare leave me Chuck Bartowski, don't you dare."

"Ma'am, we've got to get him to the hospital," one of the medics snapped at her. Sarah stood and watched as the medics quickly stabilized Chuck and hurried back up the stairs.

Both agents were left staring at the door before they suddenly remembered each other. Making eye contact, they took in the state of each other.

Casey's hands and the pockets of his bulletproof vest were coated with Chuck's blood from his attempts to slow the bleeding. Sarah noticed, for the first time, that he looked exhausted.

She knew she didn't look any better.

"All right Walker?" Casey asked. She took in a deep breath and nodded slowly.

"You?" She croaked. Exhausted was catching up with her too.

He nodded slowly back. Holding eye contact, both agents seemed to share the same thought.

Slowly they moved towards the body of the man who had put them through hell.

Sarah hadn't really taken in his face before but now it was all she could look at. She let out a shaky breath.

"Donlon," Casey said simply, recognizing the face immediately.

"The _leader_ of the Intersect project," Sarah finished, bewildered.

The agents stood, staring in stunned silence. The ominous white mask lay cracked beside his head, the thin elastic strap that held the mask to his face had snapped when Sarah ripped it off and now lay limp on the floor.

"Well," Casey began, "he _had _to be a psycho to think that the NSA and CIA could play nice," he quipped.

Sarah started out laughing and ended up crying. She covered her mouth and turned away, tears streaming down her cheeks.

She couldn't believe the horrible twists that had come along with this assignment.

"This project destroys lives," she said softly, wiping tears away.

Casey pretended not to hear.

"Let's go Walker," Casey said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Our day's not over yet."

* * *

Back outside the compound, the general stood by an SUV; waiting for the agents.

Ticked off was a generous description of the look on her face.

The mere fact that she was here, at the compound, in person, did not bode well for the agents.

"I certainly hope neither of you had lofty career plans with the government," she began as Casey and Sarah approached. "You lied to the U.S. Government and you allowed the most important asset to our intelligence agencies to be captured and seriously injured." She turned to Casey, "I'm especially disappointed in you, Major Casey. I had thought you were the rational half of this pair," she eyed them both before she focused her attention back on Casey, "but now I can see I overestimated you." Both agents' faces remained stoic throughout the reprimand.

"You can expect very serious consequences once this situation is under control," she said as she moved toward the building. "I'd start packing," she finished tersely, glaring at each agent before continuing down the path.

Sarah couldn't care less about her career at this point.

But she knew that Casey did care. She turned to him.

She had never seen the agent with so much emotion so blatantly displayed on his features. Sarah couldn't help but feel responsible. Casey was nothing if not good at his job, and now that was being taken from him for doing everything in his power to save Chuck's life.

"Casey, I-"

"Let's go," he interrupted, moving toward their SUV, "we've got a hospital to get to."

Sarah couldn't argue with that.

There would be plenty of time to defend their actions after they knew Chuck was okay.

Because he was going to be okay.

And that was final.

Nothing else in the world matted but that.

* * *

Like it? Love it? Hate it? You know what to do.


	8. Horrible Mistake

**A/N: Well life certainly isn't conducive to finishing FanFics! I'm so sorry it's taken me soooooooooooooooooooooo long to get back to this story! Thank you to all you faithful readers who kept reading and reviewing and encouraging me to finish. I'm thinking there will be one or two more chapters after this. Hopefully that one or two won't multiply into five or six like the last time I said that. Haha. **

**Anyway, this is chapter eight! It has only been edited by me because well, it's two am and I'm sure my beta is probably sleeping, and I have no patience to wait another day to post this chapter. So hopefully you all can overlook any errors because you're so happy I've posted a new chapter. ;)**

**Lucky for all of you out there, I'm now on summer vacation, so the next few chapters should come a lot quicker. They aren't written yet, but no worries, I have the motivation to finish this puppy!**

**Thanks once again for hanging in there with me. **

**I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

**

* * *

  
**

"Dr. Woodcomb!"

Ellie turned to face a very out of breath nurse. Before she could get a question out the nurse hurtled forward.

"Yourbrotherisintheemergencyroom," she exclaimed.

Ellie's brain refused to process the hurried statement. It hadn't even been two days since she'd received the horrifying news of Chuck's death. Unable to deal with her grief, she returned to work, despite Devon's protests.

"I don't—that's—he can't—what?" she finally managed. Instead of trying to explain, the nurse reached out and took Ellie's arm, dragging her toward the emergency room.

They lurched to a halt in front of the windows of one of the trauma rooms. Doctors in blue scrubs and nurses in pink scrubs worked furiously around her battered baby brother. There was also a surgeon she didn't recognize working on Chuck's left side.

"How did—what happened?" there were so many questions, she couldn't clear her thoughts enough to think which one would be best to ask first. Her head was spinning and she felt an odd disconnect with reality watching so many people working to save the brother she thought she had already lost.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a police officer approaching.

"Are you Dr. Woodcomb? Ellie Woodcomb?" the officer asked as he came to a stop on Ellie's left. The nurse turned to look at the young officer, but Ellie didn't dare take her eyes off Chuck. She had already vowed never to let him out of her sight again.

"Yes," she replied. "How did—" she stopped herself and took a calming breath. The nurse placed a reassuring hand on her arm. Ellie needed to keep a level head and figure out what was happening. "My brother is supposed to be—they said there was a car crash," she corrected. She turned briefly to look at the officer. He nodded slowly, his gaze dropping to the floor.

"Dr. Woodcomb, perhaps you should take a seat," he motioned to some chairs down the hall, but Ellie's eyes were back on Chuck.

"Just tell me what happened," she ground out, fighting tears. She heard the officer sigh.

"Alright," he said, flipping open a small notebook. "What was originally thought to be a car crash was actually a hijacking," the officer began, referring to his superior officer's notes to be sure he had the facts straight this time. Ellie's head snapped around to the officer's face. The officer took another deep breath, "perhaps we should sit—"

"Just tell me what happened!" Ellie repeated forcefully. He nodded, holding his hands up in surrender.

"Okay, I apologize," he replied gently. He turned to the nurse. "Would you find Mr. Bartowski's doctor so he can speak with Dr. Woodcomb please?" The nurse jumped a little.

"Oh, of course," she patted Ellie gently on the shoulder before turning and hurrying back down the hall. Ellie's eyes were back on Chuck. He looked so pale and small with all those people around him. She wanted to badly to barge in and figure out what was wrong and to help fix it. She couldn't lose him again.

The officer gently took Ellie by the elbow.

"I can get through this a lot faster if you focus on me for a few minutes Dr. Woodcomb," he said, guiding Ellie away from the trauma room. Ellie allowed herself to be led to an empty room just one door down from Chuck. She forced herself to focus on the officer. He did, after all, have the answers she wanted. The officer took a deep breath as Ellie crossed her arms and locked her hazel eyes on him.

"As I said, what was originally thought to be a crash was actually a hijacking. Your brother's customer that evening happened to be a known gang member. I'm afraid what happened to Mr. Bartowski was a horrible case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Ellie shook her head in confusion and frustration.

"I don't understand, how did—?"

"I'm getting there," the officer interrupted patiently. "As he was leaving the customer's house, rival gang members launched an attack. They were heavily armed with everything from handguns to hand grenades. Since this attack took place on the outskirts of town and there were no other houses in the vicinity, we only became aware of the attack after the dust had settled." He paused for a moment to let that information sink in. "At around 2:30 am this morning, we received a call from someone inside the house. We have not yet determined the caller, as the scene has not been fully processed yet." The officer could sense Ellie was getting impatient and tried to speed the story up.

"Anyway, your brother was caught in the crossfire of this attack on his way down the road from the house, early last night when the attack was launched." The officer rushed on through Ellie's gasp. "Originally we thought that a hit and run had occurred. We had no reason to believe the crash your brother was involved in was connected to the gang battle…"

"Why was I told he was dead then?" Ellie demanded. "Do you have any _idea_ what it's like to think someone you love is dead and then find out he was alive the whole time?!"

The officer again held up his hands.

"I understand that you're upset Dr. Woodcomb, but please let me finish." Ellie huffed and glared at the officer, but remained silent.

"When we found your brother's vehicle, it was burned beyond recognition. This is why, after determining the vehicle belonged to the Burbank Buy More and discovering it had been checked out by a Mr. Chuck Bartowski, we assumed he had been killed in the crash and his remains incinerated in the ensuing fire." Ellie continued glaring.

"After extensive investigating, our lab discovered that the vehicle had not caught fire because of the crash, but that it had in fact been set alight by a hand grenade. And, although the fire had been burning for hours before we arrived, there was no trace of human remains inside the vehicle." Ellie had to take a deep breath through her nose to keep from absolutely ripping the officer's head off. Why didn't they check those things _before_ they informed everyone that Chuck was dead? How could they _do _that to people? Instead, she let him continue.

"I am very, very sorry for that mistake," he said and then paused.

"What?" Ellie jumped in. "So if he wasn't in the car, where was he?" The officer sighed and ran a hand through his ruffled brown hair. Ellie noticed for the first time how young he looked. He couldn't have been more than 21 or 22. She focused on his nameplate, realizing that, if he had introduced himself, she couldn't remember his name. The shiny gold nameplate read: Parker. He was still staring at his shoes, not answering her questions.

"Officer Parker," she said quietly. He looked up to meet her eyes. "I _need _to know what happened to Chuck. Please." Officer Parker stared at her for several beats before nodding slowly.

"I apologize," he said, shifting his hat from under one arm to under the other. "It appears that, to avoid anyone from potentially calling the police, the gang members ran your brother off the road and—" he paused, trying to come up with a pleasant way of describing it. There wasn't one. "They pulled your brother from the car and beat him, then threw him in their vehicle and took him back up to the house. I'll spare you the rest of the details, but your brother suffered multiple beatings over the last 12 hours before he was eventually shot." Ellie gasped and put a hand to her mouth in horror.

"Shot?" she whispered.

Officer Parker nodded solemnly.

"To make a long story shorter, your brother was found in the house by the first responders this morning and was Life Flighted to this hospital. His doctors will know more about his condition. But it was dire when he was brought in." He watched as Ellie turned away from him, her shoulders shook with quiet sobs. He stepped forward and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I am so very sorry to put you through this…again. Is there someone I can call for you? Your husband maybe?"

She nodded through her sobs.

"D-Devon Woodcomb. He—he works here in th—the hospital," she managed. Officer Parker nodded and guided Ellie to a chair in the room before heading out to find the other Dr. Woodcomb. He had barely stepped out the door when he came face to face with the object of his search.

"Excuse me, officer; I'm looking for my wife. My brother-in-law was just brought in and—"

"Devon Woodcomb? Dr. Devon Woodcomb?" Officer Parker asked. Devon nodded, looking slightly confused. "She's right in here Dr. Woodcomb," he said by way of explanation, motioning into the unoccupied recovery room. "I just finished explaining your brother-in-law's ordeal. I'm afraid a horrible mistake was made," Officer Parker glanced at the wall that separated them from the man in question, "obviously."

Devon didn't even hear him. He was completely focused on Ellie, holding her and trying to comfort her.

"He'll be okay Ellie," Officer Parker could just barely hear him whisper; "he's got the best doctors working on him. It'll be alright."

Officer Parker quietly slipped from the room, giving the couple some privacy. He pulled the door closed behind him.

"Parker," a gruff voice called quietly. He turned.

"Major Casey," he replied, saluting his ranking officer. Casey gave a quick salute back.

"How'd it go?"

"I must say sir, I don't envy beat cops. This is tough work they do, and I think I got off easy," he explained in a hushed tone. Casey looked toward the door as a blonde woman walked up.

"Do they know?" she asked Casey. Casey grunted.

"Petty Officer Parker here took care of the cover story. Ellie and Devon know he's alive," he responded. Parker took this as his cue to go.

"If that's all Major—" he began, hinting that he'd like to disappear before the grieving couple reappeared.

"Right," Casey said distractedly, "you're dismissed Petty Officer." He saluted. Parker returned, nodded politely to the blonde woman, and took off at a fast clip down the hall toward the exit.

"So they know he's alive," Sarah began.

"But will he stay that way?" Casey finished her thought. "I don't know Walker." Sarah stood perfectly still a moment, staring off into space. Then she seemed to pull herself back. Without a word, she turned and knocked softly on the door where Ellie and Awesome were sitting before nudging it open. Both doctors looked up.

"Sarah," Ellie gasped, standing up and hugging Sarah tightly. "He's alive, they found him."

"I heard. Thank goodness," Sarah said, feeling fresh tears make their way down her face. "How is he?" she asked as Ellie released her. Wiping away some of her own tears, Ellie shook her head.

"I don't know. They said he was shot—"

She was interrupted by another knock.

"Dr. Woodcomb?" a man's face peered around the semi open door.

"Dr. Fisher, hi," Ellie responded between sniffles.

"Hi," the man responded, striding across the room and shaking Ellie's hand and a now standing Devon's as well. "I've been working on your brother, Chuck," he continued. "It's late and I know you've all been through an awful lot today so I'll cut to the chase," he referred to the chart in his hand. "Mr. Bartowski is going to be fine," he paused to allow the collective sigh of relief to pass. "But he has been through a significant amount of trauma. The gunshot wound he sustained just barely missed his heart. We repaired the damage, but Chuck is going to have to stay with us for several days at least to ensure everything is working properly. The rest of his injuries were relatively minor: cuts and bruises, and they'll heal up with time," he gave a tight-lipped, almost-smile and looked expectantly up at the family. "Any questions?"

"Can we see him?" Ellie asked, leaning heavily on Devon now.

"He's sedated at the moment, and we need to keep him that way, but that should be fine. He's been moved down the hall, room 219." Ellie looked at Devon. Devon shook Dr. Fisher's hand again and they both thanked him before rushing from the room.

Sarah and Casey were left with the doctor. He pulled a small plastic bag from his pocket.

"Agent Walker and Major Casey, I presume?"

The agents nodded.

"I was told to give this to you," he explained, placing the bag in Casey's hand. The bag contained a spent bullet, coated in blood.

"Thank you doctor," Casey said. Dr. Fisher nodded and left the room.

Casey and Sarah both stared at the bag in Casey's hand for several moments before Casey finally shoved it in his jeans pocket.

"I'd better get this to the general," he said gruffly, striding towards the door.

"Casey," Sarah said, stopping him in the doorway. He turned to face her. "Thank you." Casey looked confused.

"For what, Walker?" he asked.

"You saved Chuck's life. I froze. I froze and if you hadn't shot Iago…that bullet would have gone straight through Chuck's heart and we'd be standing in the morgue rather than here. Ellie would have lost her brother forever," she looked down at her hands. "_I_ would have lost him forever." She looked up. "So…thank you. For saving all of us."

Casey just stood in the doorway, staring at her.

Then he turned to go.

"Just doing my job, Walker," he tossed over his shoulder before disappearing out the door.

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	9. Always Here

**A/N: Wow. I kind of suck at this following through thing. My bad. Thank you so much to all of you readers out there that kept reminding me to finish by reading and reviewing. I am so, so sorry it has taken me so long to post this chapter! Hopefully it is up to par with the rest of the story, I've re-read it about a million times and my beta (mugglecastlover31, you're my fav!) has looked over it. It's been so long since I started this story, I'm hoping I didn't lose track of any important facts/details. Please feel free to point out whatever you see. Any mistakes left are my own. I have the epilogue worked out, just need to finish up writing it. Hopefully will post it before the end of the year!  
**

**Without further ado, the ninth chapter. **

**Enjoy.  
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He gasped in a sharp breath as he woke suddenly. He had been dreaming, he thought, but he had instantly forgotten the dream upon waking. He hated when that happened. His heart was racing but his mind felt blurry. He opened his eyes and tried to make sense of what he saw. He was lying in a bed but it wasn't his own. There was a soft but piercing beep that kept time with his erratic heartbeats. To his right, slumped and sleeping in an uncomfortable looking chair was his older sister. If his whole body hadn't felt like a cement truck had backed over it, he would have lept up to hug her. Seeing her made him wonder where the other woman in his life could be. He experienced a jolt of panic as his brain called up the possibility that she had already been relocated and he would never see her again; never get to— He gasped again, trying to sit up. The heart rate monitor went crazy and Ellie bolted upright in her chair.

"Chuck? Chuck, calm down," she got up and gently pushed him back onto his pillows before pushing the button to call for the nurse. "It's all right Chuck, you're safe now. You're in the hospital."

Chuck had so many questions and thoughts and he was so happy to see his sister. There were so many emotions, it was wearing him out and he was worried he'd pass out again before he got the answers he needed.

"How are you feeling Chuck?" Ellie asked, fighting her own emotions and smoothing Chuck's curly hair.

Chuck wasn't sure how to respond. He didn't want Ellie to freak out because he was in so much pain, but at the same time, he was in _so_ much pain.

So instead he changed the subject.

"Sarah?" he managed to croak, making Ellie reach for the ice chips next to his bed.

"She went out for coffee," she replied, spooning some chips into a cup and handing it to Chuck. "She should be back soon." She smiled her patented Ellie smile, the one that was happy but sad, the one that said so much. Chuck worked on some ice chips to cover his overwhelming relief that Sarah hadn't disappeared completely.

"How long was I out?" he asked, feeling suddenly disoriented. Was it day or night? Ellie let out a breath and looked at her watch.

"It's been 37 hours since you got out of surgery," she said. "It's about three o' clock in the afternoon." She smiled and smoothed his hair again. There was a knock and Chuck's heart lurched thinking Sarah must be back.

Instead, a doctor poked his head around the door and then entered.

"Well good afternoon Mr. Bartowski, good to see you decided to join us." Chuck shivered slightly; an almost-memory working it's way around his mind.

"Chuck," he replied, "call me Chuck." The doctor smiled slightly and flipped open the chart he'd brought with him.

"All right. Well, Chuck, I'm Doctor Fisher and I've been treating you these last few days. I'm pleased to say everything is looking good and you can probably go home within the next couple of days," he stopped and looked up at Chuck. "Questions?"

Chuck stared at the doctor and suddenly flashed. With brown eyes and graying light brown hair, he was in his early sixties. He was an ex-army colonel and field medic, honorably discharged after the end of the Vietnam War. He had also done five years with an NSA intelligence team before retiring for a normal life. He still maintained a high security clearance for occasions such as this.

Chuck blinked and cleared his throat, trying to hide his transition from the Intersect back to the real world.

"No. No questions. Thank you doctor," he said, studying his IV line. The doctor stood still for a beat, unsure what to make of this man. But his orders were specific: make sure he lives, and don't ask him any extraneous questions. He was a soldier and he'd done his job. His work here was done.

He gave Ellie a warm smile because she was eying her brother suspiciously.

"All right then," Doctor Fisher said, breaking the silence. "Rest up Chuck, you'll be just fine." He reached out and shook Ellie's hand.

"Thank you Doctor Fisher," she said, fixing those intense hazel eyes on his. He had the distinct feeling that she knew that he knew more than he was letting on. He gave another tight smile and made his exit.

On his way out, he passed Agent Sarah Walker, holding two steaming cups of coffee. He motioned her aside. Her eyes took on a concerned look.

"Mr. Bartowski is awake, and he's going to be fine, but his sister seems… suspicious," he explained quietly.

Sarah went from concerned girlfriend to agent and nodded curtly, neutralizing her facial expressions.

"Thank you Doctor Fisher, I'll handle it," she said. He gave a short nod and continued to the rest of his rounds.

Sarah took a deep breath and knocked on the door as best she could with her elbow before entering.

"You're awake," she breathed; so happy to see him she nearly forgot she had two scorching cups of coffee in her hands.

"Sarah," Chuck said, a slow smile spreading across his features. They stayed like that, smiling at each other for several moments before Ellie clued in.

"I'll just—" She strode toward Sarah and the door, taking one of the coffees as she went by. "I'm going to go call Devon. Back later," she finally said.

Neither Sarah nor Chuck acknowledged her departure.

There were several long seconds of silence after the door clicked shut. Both Sarah and Chuck simply took in each other's appearance. Sarah looked exhausted. Chuck guessed she hadn't gotten much sleep in the last few days. Chuck for his part looked…well like he'd been tortured. His normally cheery face was swollen and bruised. He had a bright white bandage on his forehead over his right eye. Sarah felt guilt wash over her.

"Don't do that," Chuck's voice broke the silence. Sarah blinked.

"Don't do what?"

"Don't blame yourself." She opened her mouth to protest. He held up a hand. "Forget it, I can see it written all over your face." She closed her mouth and he smiled. A full on, Chuck Bartowski, accidental secret agent smile. She pulled Ellie's now vacant chair closer to the bed and sat down. He reached out for her hand.

"This was not your fault Sarah. And I'm alive. If you'd found me earlier, it wouldn't have changed anything. You had nothing to do with the transport, so just forget about blaming yourself. Okay?"

She averted her eyes and nodded to the floor tiles. He squeezed her hand.

"Now, you wanna tell me who that psycho was?"

Sarah took in a deep breath.

"Are you sure you want all the details now? You must be exhausted," she countered, not really having the energy to explain the insane man's motivations.

Chuck mulled this over for a couple of moments. Part of him was dying to know the whole story, but part of him just wanted to put the whole thing behind him and move on.

"How about the Cliff's Notes version debrief?" he replied. Sarah smiled gently and brushed her thumb over the back of Chuck's hand.

"Let's see," she began, trying to organize her thoughts and the information so she could make the story go as efficiently as possible. "The man who kidnapped you, Iago as he called himself, was really a man named Thomas Donlon. He developed the concept for the Intersect project and oversaw the project as the device was being built. But a few years ago, once the Intersect project was fully operational, the government decided it was no longer in need of Donlon's services. So, to lower costs, they cut his and other higher ups' jobs, leaving just enough staff to maintain the Intersect," Sarah paused to make sure Chuck was following.

"Another postal, laid off, American worker. That figures," Chuck commented sarcastically.

"Anyway, Donlon somehow got wind of the layoffs and before his security clearance was revoked, he gleaned as much information from the Intersect project files as he could-"

"Including yours, mine, and Casey's names and whereabouts," Chuck supplied.

"Right," Sarah nodded. "The teams raiding his home and other known whereabouts have found evidence that he has been planning his revenge for years. He must have been watching us for weeks to know that you were being moved. But because our particular project is so top secret, he didn't have any idea that you actually had a working Intersect in your brain."

Chuck's brow furrowed in confusion.

"I don't get it then, why did he come after me? After us? For all he knew, we could have just been field agents gathering intel for the Intersect."

Sarah shook her head sadly.

"Well according to his personnel file, Donlon was always a little…off kilter. Being laid off may have just been the catalyst that caused him to finally lose it. He probably just picked the most top secret file he could get his hands on and figured doing damage to our team would suffice for his plan of revenge toward the government. We'll never really know I guess," she finished with a sigh, tucking her hair behind her ear with her free hand.

Chuck was staring blankly at the door, trying to make sense of it all. Sarah sensed his agitation.

"Chuck, the man was crazy, but he's gone now. We never have to worry about him again," she supplied, rubbing his hand tenderly and gave him a reassuring smile.

Chuck gave a small smile in return.

"Of course, what you went through….that would shake anyone up," she said, leaning in closer. "I'm here for you," she kissed him softly, "always."

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	10. Where the Story Ends: Epilogue

**A/N: Well faithful readers, here it is (finally)! This is the epilogue, the final wrap up of No One Here to Save Me. I apologize a million times over for taking so long to get this and other chapters up! I appreciate all you awesome people who stuck with me and continued reviewing and pushing me to finish. Couldn't (and probably wouldn't) have done it without you guys! **

**On another note, this story is nowhere near close to canon anymore. LOL. But I suppose that's the point of FanFiction anyway. I've decided that Sarah is stupid on the show, so I don't know how good the Chuck/Sarah scenes are...but it's what I've got. :)**

**I did not run this by my wonderful beta, so all mistakes are my own.**

**Disclaimer: The song is "Where the Story Ends" by The Fray, an absolutely amazing song. I recommend it highly. I do not own it, just borrowing it for the purposes of this story. I also do not own any of the Chuck characters. Sadly that's all NBC. **

**Thanks once again for sticking with me and this story. Hopefully this ending does it a justice.**

**Enjoy!**

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Trying not to lose my head  
But I have never been this scared before  
Tell you what I'll do instead  
Lay my body down on the floor  
To forget what I've done  
Silhouette 'til the good lord come

Chuck slowly awoke to the sound of someone else's breathing. His heart momentarily stopped as his brain raced to recall his location. Had he been rescued from the basement? Or was that scenario some horrible trick his mind played on him while he slept? He kept his breathing even and his eyes closed so as not to alert the person he was conscious. He focused instead on things he could hear and smell: trickling water…a fountain? Like the one in the courtyard outside his bedroom window maybe? There were soft sounds of a conversation coming from what seemed like a long ways away. On his next even intake of air he focused on scents…fresh laundry and…bacon maybe? He decided to risk it.

Opening his eyes turned out to be a mistake. Hovering beside his bed was a man in a smooth white mask.

Chuck let out a decidedly un-manly yelp and leapt out from under his covers, scrambling across his bed and tumbling limbs-over-head to the floor.

The laugh that followed was not sinister however.

The man crossed the room, standing above Chuck as he lifted the mask.

"Morgan! Geez you scared the crap out of me!" Chuck tried to control his breathing and the horrible throbbing in his shoulder.

"Sorry Chuckster," Morgan began reaching out a hand to help Chuck off the floor, "I didn't know you were so afraid of masked men." He laughed again. Chuck smiled an uneasy smile and let out an unconvincing laugh.

"Yeah, well…I'm feeling a little off my game these days," he replied, massaging the slowly healing gunshot wound that was frighteningly close to his heart. Luckily his best friend always seemed to be more wrapped up in whatever was going on inside his mind than what Chuck was dealing with. "So what's up buddy? Any special reason you decided to scare the living daylights out of me this morning?" Chuck straightened out his t-shirt and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Halloween," was Morgan's response.

Chuck's face contorted in confusion.

"Morgan, it's September. You can't honestly be thinking about Halloween costumes already!"

"Well, since the untimely demise of our beloved Sandworm costume—"

"May he rest in peace," Chuck interjected solemnly.

"Right, well I just figured we needed an awesome new team costume to keep up tradition."

Chuck narrowed his eyes.

"And so you chose…?" he gestured to the mask.

"Freddy and Jason!" Morgan exclaimed, holding the mask to his face. Chuck shuddered and swiped at Morgan's arm.

"I hate to break this to you buddy, because I can see you put a lot of thought into this, but that was a hockey goalie's mask. Not…whatever this is," he tapped the mask with his knuckles. Morgan looked at the mask then back at Chuck.

"Right…well this was cheaper," Morgan responded with slightly less enthusiasm.

"Maybe you should go back to the drawing board on this one," Chuck said, laying a hand on his friend's shoulder and guiding him toward his "Morgan Door".

"Sure, sure, crush my idea, kick me out and make _me _do all the work on our _joint_ costume. That seems fair," he shot sarcastically at Chuck.

"Sorry buddy, but I've still got 'recuperating' as the only thing on the agenda for the next week and a half, so you're just going to have to work it out," Chuck patted Morgan's shoulder before releasing his friend to climb out the window.

"Fine. But don't be surprised if I choose Jeff or Lester to be my number two this year," Morgan pouted before climbing out.

"Alrighty," Chuck responded, shutting the panes behind Morgan, locking them and pulling the curtains. Shuffling back over to his bed, Chuck flopped face first onto the sheets. His life could be exhausting at unexpected times. But what was really stressing him out was the unfinished business on his plate.

Unfinished business pertaining to a ring and a certain woman.

He had some serious work to do.

All we know is distance  
We're close and then we run  
Kiss away the difference  
I know you hate this one

Trying not to lose your own  
Boxing up everything, you've got  
All you ever knew of home  
You're scared, scared to see  
Your mother there in the door  
You wonder where did the years go

Two hours and fifteen phone calls later, Chuck had managed to secure a private room in a quaint restaurant that happened to be Sarah's favorite. At seven that evening, Chuck and Sarah met for a romantic candlelit dinner, talking easily about everything and nothing and simply enjoying each other's company.

"Chuck," Sarah said seriously during a lull in their conversation. Chuck looked up from his pasta. "I need to discuss something with you. Something important."

Chuck felt his stomach drop. _No, this can't be happening, she can't-_

"I've decided to take a new job," she said calmly, avoiding his disbelieving gaze. Chuck's heart pounded in his chest. _No, no, no, no, no-_ "Here. In Los Angeles. Permanently." She finally looked up, grinning. Chuck's head was spinning as he processed that information.

"You…what?" he responded. She laughed lightly at his confusion.

"I broke protocol, and disobeyed a direct order by coming to find you. If I even had a job with the CIA it certainly wouldn't be worthwhile," she clarified. "The FBI field office here was looking for a new counter-terrorism agent and I happen to have the qualifications. It's a desk job, but I think that's what I need at this point."

He still looked dumbfounded and Sarah laughed again, reaching across the table for his hand.

"So what do you think?"

Chuck dropped her hand and stood up from the table abruptly. Sarah's face fell.

"I thought you'd be happy-" she began. Chuck held up a hand to stop her then moved to her side of the table. Dropping to one knee, he pulled out a somewhat battered ring box and opened it.

"Agent Sarah Walker, will you marry me?" he asked simply, already knowing her answer.

All we know is distance  
We're close and then we run  
Kiss away the difference  
I know you hate this one

But this is how the story ends  
Or have we just begun  
To kiss away the difference?  
I know you hate this one

Far on the outskirts of the city, Casey stepped out of his SUV. Striding around the front of the vehicle, he patted his pocket for the object he was to deliver. Approaching the lone figure in the desert, he called out.

"General." The woman turned ever so slightly to glance at her subordinate.

"Major Casey," she gave him a once over as he came to a stop beside her. "I can't say it's a pleasure to see you, but nonetheless, here we are."

Casey merely grunted in response. He couldn't say he was pleased to see the general either. The circumstances were unfortunate at best.

"I've been thinking, and although you disobeyed a direct order, I've decided to let you off with time already served. A continuing sentence, if you will." Confusion flashed across Casey's features.

"Forgive me general, but what do you mean?"

"You've hated Project Bartowski from day one, I figure there couldn't be a harsher punishment for you than permanence. You are officially assigned to protection of the Intersect from now until resignation, retirement, or death. Whichever comes first." She handed him papers with the NSA's official seal, essentially his career's death sentence. He simply accepted them silently and turned to face the scene before him.

"Understood general," he said after a few moments, keeping his face neutral.

"Good," she responded. "Do you have the bullet?"

Casey retrieved the bagged item from his pocket and dropped it into the general's outstretched hand without a word.

"Thank you Major," she said before pulling out a radio. "Team leader, the final item has been received, proceed with cleanup over."

"Roger general, cleanup commencing upon retrieval of item over," a voice crackled over the radio. Casey looked at the general, confused. But before anything could be said, a man in a jeep pulled up in front of the pair. The general handed the bagged bullet over to the driver without saying anything and the driver sped off.

"What's going on?" Casey finally asked, not concerning himself with formalities. He'd already received a severe punishment. Things couldn't get much worse.

"We are cleaning up this mess," she replied. "You're dismissed Major Casey." Casey stared at the general a moment longer, grunted, headed back to his SUV, and drove back towards civilization.

"Ready for detonation General Beckman, confirming orders over," the radio crackled.

"You have a go team leader over," Beckman replied mechanically.

"Roger that, commencing detonation in T minus 10 seconds over."

Beckman watched silently, hands tucked in her jacket pockets as the original Intersect compound rocked with explosions of varying degrees. Soon the entire compound was engulfed in flames, destroying any and all evidence of a mission gone wrong.

"Team leader, remain at the compound to oversee and ensure completion of cleaning, then return to base over."

"Roger that general, over and out."

The general's car pulled up behind her and she turned away from the burning remains of the building, immediately eradicating this memory from her mind.

The violins make no sound  
And I begin to feel the ground

All we know is distance  
We're close and then we run  
Kiss away the difference  
I know you hate this one

But this is where the story ends  
Or have we just begun  
To kiss away the difference?  
I know you hate this one

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